As a Multiple Sclerosis patient, it has become necessary for me to reinvent myself. I have ... and continue to ... refuse to lie down and die, or in this case, follow the normally prescribed drugs and treatments that do nothing to defeat my disease. I am not only surviving by pursuing alternatives, I am thriving. I do the things specialists told me I would never be able to do. I walk and hope to one day even run regularly. I retain my cognitive and creative abilities for the pleasure of my readers. Although you may never see me on my daily walk, you are welcome to read my novel(s) and in doing so, come to ask yourself, "How can the 'out of the box' protocol she has followed, help my loved one with an autoimmune disease like Multiple Sclerosis?"


Part 2: Sweet Saturday Samples

His Precious Treasure
This contempopry Romance is rated PG-13
(language maynot be acceptable for all audiences)

Kimmy’s mother, Irene peered through the screen door moments later. “Are you okay?”


“I’m just fine and dandy,” Kimmy spat, her face contorted with anger. She didn’t wait for Irene’s reaction to the broken pitcher before turning her chair to her own escape, the lawn several feet below the porch. The roses along the ramp reached for her bare skin scratching her hands. She ignored them and her mother’s sobs over the broken heirloom.

How could he do this to her? Didn’t Lee love her? He’d held her hand through all the pain and disappointments. She’d smiled for him despite the physical and emotional pain for most of four years. Now he walked out on her. She’d dealt with many disappointments, and expected many more, but not this. Somehow she must find the will to go on. But who could love her now?



Chapter 2

The sound of an old car back firing drifted up to Kimmy from the streets below. She wheeled across the patio to the mounted telescope, swinging it around to focus on Desi’s old Chevy SS Sport.

The day after Kimmy’s twenty-first birthday had quickly filled with boredom. She focused the lens to catch Desi and her faithful sidekick Corrinna as they rounded the corner on Main Street and pulled into the gas pump at Macon’s. A new pick-up shined fire engine red as it rolled to a stop beside Macon’s weathered truck. A stranger exited, speaking to Old Macon who waved, ducking his head under the open hood of the older truck. The stranger joined him.

Kimmy watched the two girls extricate themselves from the pea-green SS Sport. They wore tank tops and shorts accented by jewelry and make-up. Kimmy cringed knowing she’d become an unwelcome companion with the girls. Deemed the ‘Three Musketeers’ by a teacher, the name had soon caught on throughout the whole community. But that had all changed on one fateful afternoon.

Kimmy noted Desi’s bold sashay from her old car to her chosen and unsuspecting prey. A rather nicely fitting pair of jeans had drawn Desi’s attention. Kimmy and Desi shared similar tastes in guys. Desi maneuvered close enough to learn if dimples and a great smile accented the stranger’s narrow hips, broad shoulders, and generous good looks. Corrinna carefully orchestrated her less flamboyant strut. Both girls wore high heels with their short shorts to show off shapely legs.

Kimmy watched her one-time cohorts as they worked their wares on the new comer. Would they succeed in turning his head? They usually did. Kimmy shuddered knowing that she would have had a hand in the pending activities at Macon’s, possibly even assuming the part of ringleader. She missed the adrenalin rush of the challenge for a guy’s attention, but that part of her life would never return.

Desi approached the impromptu mechanic with an unopened Coke in hand. She apparently earned only a slight greeting in return for her effort. He still reached into the motor with both hands. Kimmy wasn’t sure if she should cheer for Desi or the attractive stranger. Who would win this round? The stranger must have asked Desi to hand him a wrench because she bent over at the waist and reached into the open toolbox for one. This action brought the desired response as his attention followed her well-rounded figure. The stranger didn’t see Desi’s free hand tug at her top to bring it tighter across her bust.

Desi seemed to think she had her fish hooked and Kimmy did too, but somehow he wiggled free. Apparently, Desi’s wanton display didn’t affect him. Desi left the Coke on the Chevy’s fender as she walked away, throwing a comment over her shoulder. Desi and Corrinna didn’t see the stranger stop his work and watch them drive away, but Kimmy did. Chalk up one more for “Decadent Desi.” She had won the round by default.
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